Des Nuits D'Amour à Plus Finir
by runicmagitek
Summary: Fareeha treats Angela out to an epic date night in Paris. What could possibly go wrong? For Pharmercy Week - Day 2


No matter what Fareeha said, Angela opted to chain herself to her work, fueled by dedication and caffeine, and only stopped to collapse into bed in the witching hours. Fareeha did well to provide Angela extra blankets and kisses in those moments, but what would it take to pry her away from work? Even if for a night?

Fareeha was no angel, either; her fickle, yet arduous hours for patrol were only predictable in that Fareeha never said no to the assignments. If it meant making ends meet, if it meant saving lives, then it was worth the minor inconvenience.

It didn't stop Fareeha from desiring a reprieve. Just the two of them. Together. Nothing more.

"Why don't we take next Friday night off?" she said one morning while they snuggled in bed.

Angela perched her chin on Fareeha's shoulder. " _We_?"

"Yeah, the both of us. No work, no other obligations except for each other."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why do I feel like you're plotting something?"

"Not plotting!" Fareeha laughed out. "Just… want to do something special for you. Like a date night."

"Oh? And what do you have in mind?"

"Like I said, something special. I want it to be a surprise, so keep your calendar clear, alright?"

"Does it involve pajamas and binge-watching shows until we pass out?"

"No, silly! I want to take you out!"

Angela grumbled and pouted. "But that involves _pants_."

Fareeha kissed those adorable lips until she smiled. "No one said _anything_ about pants, but wear something that makes _you_ happy." She paused. "But yeah, something appropriate for public, I guess."

Perfecting a stress-free date night more back-end work than Fareeha initially expected, though it was nothing she couldn't already handle; she booked reservations, bought tickets to a local concert, and dry cleaned her best clothes.

And it played in their favor that work landed them in Paris temporarily. After all the hours poured into their duties, they deserved a break in the city of love.

She half expected Angela to forget—poor thing was glued to her research—but Angela held true to her promise. Dressed in a simple, black cocktail dress, Angela waited in the foyer of their hotel as Fareeha approached the grand staircase. What stood at the bottom was nothing short of divine. Angela even took the time to straighten her blonde hair from its perpetual ponytail to leave it brushing her bare shoulders. As Fareeha descended the stairs, she hitched her breath upon drinking in the finer details of Angela's beauty. It was in the teardrop earrings and the delicate diamond necklace and the subtle smokey eyes and freshly manicured nails.

Fareeha almost felt unworthy to stand beside Angela in her dress pants, button-down, and blazer.

"Hey there, stranger," Fareeha purred, stepping into her from behind to kiss her neck. "You new around here?"

Angela perked up and laughed. "We're _married_ , silly!"

"I don't know..." Fareeha grinned and embraced her. "This lovely lady is new to me."

"Can't even recognize me with make-up on?"

Angela tilted her head back until their noses bumped. Fareeha giggled along with her and kissed between her eyes.

"Just a pleasant surprise, that's all. So used to you in either a lab coat or the valkyrie suit."

"Same goes to you with your armor, you know. And I must say... _you_ clean up well, too."

Slipping an arm around her waist, Fareeha led her to the door. "Two fine ladies accompanying one another... sounds like a perfect night already!"

The absence of their schedule ride, however, riddled Fareeha with anxiety. After waiting for five minutes, she called to confirm someone was, in fact, on their way to pick them up. A black luxury car pulled up to the curb in due time, though far too late for Fareeha's liking. She opened the back door for Angela, hoping her face didn't display her frustrations.

Angela curled up into Fareeha and stared out the window to witness the vibrant city at twilight. All the while, Fareeha fished for her buzzing phone and swore under her breath at the alert.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked.

"It's nothing," she offered, stuffing the phone back into her pockets. However, with the evening's concert now canceled due to the lead singer landing in an emergency room, Fareeha struggled to plot a backup plan for the night's entertainment.

Even that lingered in the back of her mind as the car came to a standstill.

"What's the holdup?" she eventually asked the driver.

"Not sure, _madame_. Perhaps an accident? It's always busy regardless this time of night, what with tourists and—"

She ceased to listen, already checking her phone for the time again. Maybe if they got out and walked—or ran, if it came down to it—they wouldn't miss their reservation. Fareeha sighed; that was unnecessary stress for Angela. The less work, the better.

 _None of this is going as planned._

Once a block away from their destination, albeit gridlocked, Fareeha hopped out and offered her hand to Angela. "Come on, maybe we can make it if we walk."

Angela didn't protest, though those blue eyes held a hint of concern. It plummeted Fareeha's heart to her stomach.

A mass of people crowded by the entrance to their restaurant of choice. Fareeha squeezed by until she located a hostess.

"Reservation for Amari," she said, still gulping down air from their brisk walk to the establishment.

The hostess scanned over her list and frowned. That alone was enough of an answer.

"What's wrong?" Angela asked as they shuffled on out. "What happened?"

"We took too long and they passed our table onto someone else," Fareeha explained, dragging her hands down her face. "Unless you want to wait three hours, I don't think we're going to eat out any time soon." She scanned the area in hopes for an available cab. "Might as well start walking back and order room service."

Something prevented her from moving onward. Blinking, Fareeha peered back; Angela clung to her arm and stood her ground.

"Who said we need to go back because of a couple bumps in the road?"

Fareeha breathed out a gentle laugh. "I just... wanted tonight to be special. I worked everything out and nothing went as planned. You work so hard and I wanted you to enjoy and have fun without worrying about anything."

Angela cocked her head. "And yet you dumped all that stress onto yourself."

 _You have a point. You always do._

"Look." Angela eased in, still clutching that arm. "You don't need to bend backwards to impress me. Just the fact you wanted to spent time exclusively with me is enough."

"I know, but..."

"Ah ah! No buts! This means a lot to me, Fareeha. So come on. Let's see what we can find that still has open seats."

"Everything around here requires a reservation."

"Are you sure? Did you check?"

"Everything nice, anyways," she grumbled.

"But I don't need nice." Angela pecked Fareeha's cheek. "I just need you."

It was enough to perk Fareeha up. A smile tickled her lips, but it was Angela's compassionate expression which warmed her soul.

They strayed from the gourmet restaurant and wandered the busy streets. Lines filtered out of most venues, though the further from the heart of the city they wandered, the fewer people they found waiting for a seat. The high-end establishments faded and allowed smaller, yet eclectic restaurants to pop up. Fareeha eyed locals frequenting the venues they walked by more so than tourists, not to mention far more casual attire.

"Oh, Fareeha! Look!"

They paused before a quaint cafe. While the windows displayed full tables, the aroma drifting out the propped open door was undeniable.

"A creperie!" Angela squealed. "I've always wanted to try crepes!"

"I don't know... we'd stick out like a sore thumb."

"Pfff, who cares? If the food is good for all those people, it's good for me."

Before Fareeha could object, Angela dragged her into the creperie. A busy waitress greeted them in French and led them to the only available seating at the counter. They sat on stools within the retro rustic environment. Airy music filtered through worn speakers and mixed with the bustle of the kitchen and the constant chatter of the patrons. A chalkboard—when had Fareeha last seen one?—conveyed the small menu on the wall beside a shelf of ceramic mugs.

Fareeha squinted at the handwritten words. She managed to translate a handful of the options, but even then, what was presented alluded her; this was not the gourmet cuisine she was prepared for.

Angela leaned into her. "What are you going to get?"

At least she was smiling.

"Not sure... I don't even know what's good."

"Well, how about we each get a savory crepe and share?"

"That's a start, I guess. But I still don't know what I'd like."

"How about the _saumon salada_?"

"The _what_?"

Angela pointed to the selection on the menu. " _Saumon salada_. It's smoked salmon—I know you love that—with emmental and goat cheese in a mushroom sauce."

"Damn, your French is better than mine."

"Comes with the job." She nudged Fareeha. "Another reason to keep me around."

They laughed together. Whatever worries once plagued Fareeha's mind drifted elsewhere. They chatted over freshly brewed coffee and lost themselves in one another by the time their crepes showed up. Fareeha nearly moaned upon tasting a mere bite.

"That good?" Angela asked.

"Mmhmm," Fareeha managed through a full mouth. "Want to try?"

When Angela perked up with a nod, Fareeha sliced into her crepe, balanced it on her fork, and offered it to Angela. Her wide blue eyes met the decadent piece until she parted her lips to claim it as her own. Fareeha smirked; she almost enjoyed watching Angela savor that bite more so than eating it herself.

"Mmm, I love it! Oh, here, try mine!"

Angela returned the gesture and Fareeha gobbled it up—a mixture of cheese, sauteed ham, eggs, peppers, and mushrooms.

"I may need to eat here every day until we're shipped out," Fareeha purred.

"Twist my arm about it," Angela said with a wink.

With their plates clean and their mugs empty, Angela enticed Fareeha with the prospect of dessert. It didn't take much; that wiggle of her hips and sly smirk did a number on Fareeha each time. They sipped on macchiatos until their sweet crepes arrived—one nutella and one strawberry jam. Again they traded bites and hummed with delight.

"You got something on you," Fareeha mentioned halfway.

"Hmm?"

She leaned in and kissed the corner of Angela's mouth, licking up the traces of nutella. Blush burned across Angela's face, but it didn't stop her from nuzzling in.

"There," Fareeha said. "Much better."

Angela snuggled back with a grin. "Why thank you."

As much as Fareeha longed to try everything on the menu, her full stomach deemed otherwise. She paid their bill, thanked their waitress as best as possible, and escorted Angela out of the creperie.

"See?" she said while looping arms with Fareeha. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

"Far better than I expected."

"You don't need to woo me with fancy restaurants."

She chuckled. "I guess not." She paused in their walk down the street. "Well, I had plans to take you to a concert, but that fell flat. Any other option is either sold out or beyond my budget."

"Then why don't we walk around until we find something?"

"You sure?"

Angela nodded. "Positive!"

They avoided the cramped streets in favor of the lesser walked paths. They marveled at traditional architecture nestled within contemporary monoliths. They discovered an antique, yet well-loved bookstore still selling relics from the previous century. They stumbled across a late-night floral shop, where an elder man with a thick accent convinced Fareeha to buy her sweetheart a rose as a reminder of their romantic stroll through the city. Angela laughed and blushed as Fareeha tucked the crimson blossom into those blonde locks.

By the time they discovered the music, Angela had kicked off her heels to carry in her hands and Fareeha shrugged off her blazer to drape over Angela's shoulders. They leaned into one another, trading yawns as they contemplated calling for a lift back to the hotel. Only then did Angela gain a second wind.

"Do you hear that?!"

She led Fareeha around the corner to a quiet bistro in its final hour. Outside the entrance was a musician crafting tunes with his piano accordion. Angela hummed along, her body swaying with the melody. Then she reached out to Fareeha.

"Dance with me."

"Right now?" Fareeha blinked and looked around. "On the streets?"

"Why not?" Angela giggled out.

But a smile graced Fareeha's features. She laughed with Angela, scooped her into her embrace, and swirled around the streets. Not a care in the world blipped into her mind.

"This?" Angela whispered at one point, resting her cheek on Fareeha's shoulder. "This is perfect."

"Really?"

"Yeah. This whole night's been perfect."

Fareeha's heart skipped a beat. She slowed her steps to ease into Angela's face. Their lips brushed over one another.

"I'm glad," Fareeha murmured before sealing it with a kiss.


End file.
